Not An Easy Day To Forget
by MidKnight Rider
Summary: This is a tag to Window of Opportunity that was originally published as part of the continuing Moonlight and Steel. My excellent Beta - the lovely and talented Bethanyactually - suggested that it should also stand alone. The title is a quote from the movie Casablanca.
1. Chapter 1

he first time Jack O'Neill decided to risk kissing Samantha Carter, he waited until the last few moments he had before the reset.

Because it was scary; it was one of the biggest risks he had taken in a decade. Considering his life over the past decade, that was quite a statement to make.

Because if she didn't kiss him back, it would be devastating. He hoped that if she saw him resign first it would make her decision easier. But if she didn't kiss him back…well, then what was left of his heart and soul would just shatter into bits, into the subatomic particles she liked to talk about, and go spinning off into space never to be reunited again.

Sam was the last chance he had at 'normal'.

He waited until the last moment and didn't tell anyone what he planned – not even Teal'c, who would have understood, and especially not Daniel, who wouldn't. He marched in and handed Hammond his resignation, tried to keep his heart from pounding out of his chest, fought down the panic attack, pulled the woman he loved into his arms, and kissed her.

It was a sweet kiss, slow and hot and wet with no signs of getting rough or demanding and – _Christ – _she was kissing _back_, mouth open, and he was lost in it, in the gentle, slowly shifting caress of her tongue and a faint taste of salt that swirled in and hinted at tears. Her hand cupped the back of his neck and held him there and her body was supple and willing in his arms. It was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

A tingling, throbbing heat flowed through his body, the slowest and hottest arousal he'd ever experienced. He kept silent but she moaned into his mouth, an inadvertent sound, full of longing.

When they broke apart he had one brief, heartrending instant to stare into her shocked, passion-filled eyes, to watch her lovely, kiss-reddened lips form his name…

…and then he was sitting at a table in the commissary, a spoonful of Froot Loops halfway to his mouth, Daniel looking at him inquisitively, and Carter a million miles away across the table.

He decided not to use the same tactic the next time. He formulated a new plan. But it took him another few cycles to work up the courage to do it.

He ignored Daniel's sincere request for his opinion, dropped his spoon into the bowl of cereal with a clatter of metal on ceramic and a healthy splash of milk, and speared Carter with a look.

"Briefing's canceled," he said before he could change his mind.

"Sir?"

"Jack?"

Jack didn't look at Daniel. He was superfluous in this cycle.

"Go put on some civvies and meet me in the parking lot, at my truck," Jack said.

"Sir?"

"That's an order, Major. Make it something casual."

It was the last order he'd have the right to give her, at least for the next ten hours. He stood before he could change his mind and went to his office to write out a letter of resignation.

When he made his way into the parking lot, Sam was waiting by his truck, as he had requested, wearing a nice pair of jeans and a white tank top. "Is this all right?" she asked, making a gesture that started at her tennis shoes and ended at her shoulder.

"It's perfect."

If she was startled that he opened the door for her, waited for her to get in and then locked and shut the door like an actual gentleman, she didn't comment on it.

It took about thirty seconds after they left the parking lot before she started talking. He grinned a little to himself. He had made a personal bet that she wouldn't make it a minute and half.

"Sir…" she began.

"Jack," he interrupted.

Sam turned her head and blinked at him. Maybe she thought this was something covert. Maybe she thought the truck was bugged. Or maybe she thought she was being kidnapped by a lunatic – and wasn't that really somewhat close to the truth?

"It's Jack," he repeated.

"You sound like Daniel," she complained. "Where are we going…Jack?"

"Pueblo," he answered.

"Uh...may I ask what's in Pueblo?"

"The State Fair."

A lovely flush of frustration stained her fair skin and he watched a muscle in her cheek jump.

Four years. For all those years it had been about the program, about his 2IC Major Carter. It had been about Daniel and Teal'c, and the team saving the world one wretched mission at a time.

For the next ten hours, it was about Sam and Jack.

"I turned in my resignation," he said quietly.

Her eyes, startlingly blue, widened in shock. "What!? Why?"

_The answer to that is simple_, he thought, _because I love you too much to keep being your CO, as if that's all I ever was or had a right to be, because I go crazy every time I have to put you in harm's way, any of you really, all of you, you're all too special, too important to be out there, but god,_ you, _especially_ you. _Carter, _Sam,_ I've wanted to kick you off the team and make you ride a desk just to keep you safe but I can't_, _I _can't _because you'd hate it and you'd hate me and it would kill you._

"Is this where we finally Talk About It?" he asked, emphasizing the last three words.

Sam ducked her head and then stared deliberately out her window. "You mean this thing between us?" she asked, quietly. "Is that why you quit?"

Jack eased the truck into the traffic heading south on US 85, adjusted the cruise control and then reached for her hand, grasping it firmly in his. Her hand felt solid and real, skin soft against his palm, a steady, feminine strength.

"The truth?" he asked.

Sam looked back him then, glanced once at his hand covering hers in the middle of the truck seat and then back up at him. He forgot how to breathe for a moment.

"I'd prefer that," she answered.

"I resigned so that we could have this day together and see how it goes," he answered.

"And then what?" she asked, voice rising, getting a little frantic."We just go back to the way things were? Hope Hammond didn't put through the paperwork while we were gone? Figure no one will ever know but us? How can you think that everything will just go back to normal again after this? How can anything _ever _be the same?"

_I'll know_, he thought bitterly, _but no one will ever know but me_…

Out loud, he barked, "Carter!" in his command voice. She reflexively fell silent at the sound of it.

He watched her do what he knew she was going to do. She exhaled a long slow breath to calm herself, shoving her response into some corner of her mind that wasn't concentrating on being furious with him.

"Can we just do this?" he asked, quietly. "Just have a few hours of nothing but me and you? Tell me you haven't wanted that and I'll turn the truck around."

Sam inhaled. Her lips parted and for a moment Jack thought he was going to have to find the next exit. But she had kissed him _back_, dammit, and he knew…he _knew_….

"You can keep going," she said softly.

He risked taking his eyes off the highway long enough to see her head tilt and a brief smile raise the corners of her beautiful mouth. Her expressive face betrayed her; it nearly always did. He saw hope and longing, wariness and a sudden stubborn defiance that matched his own.

"Carpe diem, huh?" she said.

Jack put both hands on the wheel to change lanes and snorted. "Now who sounds like Daniel?"

(0)


	2. Chapter 2

Jack paid for her to get into the Fair, which caused her to give him a long searching look.

"So this is like a date?" she said.

"It's not _like _a date," he answered as they got their hands stamped with the initials CSF in smudgy red ink. "It _is_ a date."

"You ordered me on a date?" she said, slightly incredulous.

"Not bad for my last official order, huh?" he asked.

"Jack -," she began.

But he cut her off by holding up one finger and saying "Ut-uh! One day. You said I could have one day."

"Well, I didn't exactly say that…." Large, hopeful dark eyes looked back at her like melting chocolate, so she stopped. "Okay," she conceded, "What now?"

At that moment a capsule containing two screaming people catapulted into the air from behind a cluster of barns. It looked as if a giant multicolored hamster wheel had gone airborne. It shot skyward between two pillars and climbed several stories before it was snagged by its tethers to hang suspended for a brief, heart stopping moment before plunging back down and disappearing behind the barns again. Just as it reappeared in the sky, Jack turned to Sam, pointing at it, and said,

"That?"

Sam watched as the capsule disappeared again, tumbling, its occupants still screaming. She looked back at her former CO, fighting a smile.

"Cool," she said.

As they started on the search for the base of the ride, Jack said,

"You're not allowed to tell me the physics involved."

Sam gave a single, theatrical sigh and said, "Okay."

"But you can scream."

"I'm not going to scream."

"Yes you are." He looked down into her indignant blue eyes and wondered what she would do if he stopped and kissed her in the middle of the Midway.

Sam gazed back at him and said,

"No, I'm _not!"_

(0)

In the end she did scream, with sheer and complete joy, a sound he had never heard coming from her in four years of seeing each other almost daily. He would never have believed that so much energy could be contained in one slender body. They stumbled off the ride with Sam still laughing and it seemed natural to put his arm around her waist while they got their 'land' legs back and pounding hearts back under control.

And he laughed with her, not just from the adrenaline rush, but she was laughing so hard he couldn't help it.

"Holy Hannah!" she gasped, "How many g's was that?"

"Carter! No physics!" Jack growled, with no bite in it at all.

"Okay," she was back to some small amount of 'normal' though still a little breathless, "Roller coaster?"

Sam cocked her head in the direction of a metal giant doing some impossible looking twist against the clear blue sky. She hadn't moved out of the circle of his arm. He noticed that. Wow, did he notice that.

They rode the coaster, the Skydiver and the Zipper before deciding to take a break in the beer garden.

They ate incredibly messy ribs, steak cut fries and mugs of beer and argued about who was better – the Bulls or the Heat; and he was equally annoyed and delighted by her scientific analysis, so different from the macho bluster of the men he had the same conversation with. He had to give it to her. She had her facts to back up her opinions.

She was being remarkably cooperative. Jack wondered if she had decided that she was dreaming.

He paid again, still insisting it was a date though, at this stage of his life, he didn't have any inclination to 'date.' He never wanted to go through that particular dog-and-pony show again. He'd realized it eating ribs and beer at a rickety, red checked plastic covered table in the beer garden at the Colorado State Fair. If he took the time to go out he wanted it to be with someone he already knew; not with someone he had to watch his attitude with, or his language, or his cover story.

But he didn't want it to just be anyone.

He wanted Sam across the table from him – though it occurred to him that stuck in this endless loop, that was the last place he should really want her at the moment. He had been aware of her every moment – hyper aware; the way her strong, slender fingers stroked over the sweating beer mug, making tracks in the tiny drops, the way the lovely column of her neck flexed when she turned her head. Her fierce and passionate gaze and soft skin.

He wanted her and he loved her and for once, he allowed himself the luxury of feeling that without reserve.

They stood in the middle of the asphalt aisle between rows of open air shops and Jack unfolded the map they had been given at the gate.

"Want to see if we can get tickets to the Monster Trucks?" he asked.

"Sure," she answered.

"No, really, if there's something here you want to do, then say so. There's a petting farm…."

His voice trailed off as she stared at him.

"A petting farm?" Her tone bordered on withering though her eyes were still sunlit. One elegant eyebrow went up, "Really?"

"Really," he said, "They have bunnies and everything."

Sam rolled her eyes and looked at the map.

"Oh, look, there's a mechanical bull!" she said.

"After _eating?"_ he said.

"Sure, why not?" she asked.

"I'll watch," Jack said, refolding the map.

Sam shook her head and gave him an indulgent smile. They walked away, stride for stride as if they were off world together. Hands nearly brushing but not touching, not holding, not yet.

"You're sure?" Jack said, "Remember the bunnies… probably little chicks too?"

Sam's laughter was like wind chimes.

"I'm sure," she said.

(0)

"Is your girlfriend a rodeo pro?" The guy in the tight jeans and cowboy hat standing next to Jack had asked.

Jack eyed him. The guy was way more ruggedly handsome than should be legal and he watching Carter the way every man on the Base watched Carter, at least when they thought no one was watching _them; _and the way her body was rocking in motion to the mechanical bull wasn't helping. It was her third time and it was nitched up to almost full.

"Theoretical astrophysicist," Jack answered, hoping it sounded as intimidating to the cowboy as it did to him. He got a blank stare in return so he tried something equally as intimidating. "She trained to be an astronaut."

"No shit?" Cowboy said, blinking and looking genuinely impressed.

"No shit," Jack assured him.

The third round of eight seconds ended and Sam jumped off the bull to a round of raucous redneck applause.

Jack put his hand possessively in the middle of her back and steered her out past the crowd. His girlfriend…. _His….._

He took her out onto the Midway and bought her a hot pink straw cowgirl hat that was only slightly less colorful than the blush that stained her cheeks.

"So what now? "he asked, scrunching his fingers into the bundle of nerves at the base of her spine.

The day was slipping into evening and the lights were starting to come on, turning the Fair to magic. They walked through a rainbow kaleidoscope of color and sound.

"Is any date a State Fair complete without trying to win a gigantic stuffed animal?" she asked.

Jack eyed her. "How many EIC badges do you have?"

"All six, suh…Jack, and the Distinguished Marksman Badge," she answered.

Jack grinned in a positively wicked way.

"Let's go shoot at something," he said.

They found a shooting gallery set up like an old west bar and proceeded to shoot the hell out of it.

"The piano player is mine!" Jack shouted over the noise.

"I got the guy at the bar, and the mice in the corner," she answered, "This rifle is crap!"

"It's an air gun!" The wide eyed carny exclaimed, obviously terrified of what this woman might be capable of with an actual gun.

They ran up scores that quickly went to the top of the leader board, with Sam at the top. She also unlocked the bonus points and the poor carny was so rattled he let them combine points and walk away with two gigantic stuffed horses, complete with saddle and bridle.

Jack gave his to the first little girl they passed, Sam to the second.

They walked the displays and animal barns and at some point wound up holding hands. Jack got them strawberry lemonades in huge plastic cups that were shaped like the Asgard but fluorescent green and that made them laugh every time they made eye contact from that point on.

"I'm calling mine 'Thor'," Jack pronounced solemnly, but when he met her eyes his were gleaming.

"Don't let him find out," Sam advised and that cracked both of them up.

Jack got her the pink cotton candy she asked for and they walked the Asgard cups out to his truck so they wouldn't have to take them on the rides. On the way out to the parking lot, she fed him a handful of cotton candy, since he had both hands full of the cups and as he gently sucked sweet sugar from the tips of her fingers he felt another rush of hot longing. Looking into her eyes he saw that she felt it too.

With Thor and his companion safely stowed in the backseat with her cowgirl hat, Jack caught her wrist and pushed her up against the truck, trapping her there for a moment, watching her carefully for any indication that she wanted him to stop.

_Please don't say stop,_ he thought, rather pathetically.

He stepped closer, wrapped both arms around her and felt the tremor that went through her body. Her eyes slipped closed. There was a hushed pause that lasted forever, in which neither of them moved, neither of them breathed, no one sighed or groaned or committed to anything but standing there with his big, muscular body pressed against hers and hers liquid and supple against his.

Jack pressed a hand into the base of her spine again and her hips surged forward to meet his. In contrast, Jack touched his mouth gently to the corner of hers and breathed her name. He tried to repeat the light kiss but she turned her head just enough to meet him fully. Aroused, soul taking flight, Jack held her tighter as her tongue traced his upper lip, following the shape of it. He swallowed a groan and concentrated on the sweetness of a moment that he might never have again. Like a man stricken with thirst who had suddenly found an oasis he drank in her kiss and frantically kissed back. They moved nothing but mouths and tongues, eyes closed, clinging to each other madly as they took a deep plunge into a long desired well.

They came up gasping for breath. Jack let go of her, pushed both hands into the hair on either side of her head and stared into her eyes. They were dilated almost to black, surrounded only by the thinnest ring of turquoise.

"Samantha," her name caught in his throat.

Her smile was breathtaking. She cupped a hand over the back of his neck. Jack swallowed hard and twisted his wrist just enough to look at his watch.

"We don't have much time," he said, heart throbbing.

Her lips parted in confusion. A wrinkle appeared between her lovely brows. He shook his head.

"Ride the Ferris Wheel with me?" he asked.

Sam looked over his shoulder at the giant wheel slowly spinning colored lights against the darkening sky.

"Okay," she said.

Thankfully the line was short and it was getting chilly so before too long they were settled in a swinging chair, rising and falling in the air. Sam snuggled close and he put his arm around her shoulders and her hand settled on his thigh and he thought she sighed with contentment.

A second glance at his watch and Jack closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for the sound of Daniel's voice and the taste of Fruit Loops….

(0)

A/N The first thrill ride they go on is the Sling Shot. I have no idea what rides they actually have at the CSF, information online is really hard to find. This is based pretty much on way more experience with State Fairs than I really want to admit to. (The kids were in 4H…)

;-)

EIC stands for Excellence in Competition and refers to marksmanship contests.


	3. Chapter 3

The third time Jack devoted an entire cycle to Sam he made sure she knew about the whole space/time continuum mess first. It was important that she knew. He wanted her to be free to speak, without worrying about being overheard and what Kinsey or the NID might do with whatever she said and what kind of position she'd put Hammond in, much less the two of them.

And _shit_ but he must really be in need of some serious sleep or a break in this loop because he couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to _talk?_

"I want you to come back to the house with me," he said, quietly and she'd looked at him and blinked and it felt good to know that he could confuse her, put her a little bit off balance.

"May I ask why?" she replied.

"It's the only place I'm sure isn't bugged," he answered.

"How can you possibly…." Her voice trailed off at the look in his eyes.

Black-ops. Okay. If anyone knew whether his house was under surveillance, it would be Jack. She changed her question.

"Does it matter?"

"Does to me."

"Okay."

They took separate vehicles – Jack in his kick-ass alpha male, midnight black macho 4x4 quad cab and Sam in her sleek, efficient moonlight silver Volvo. Jack arrived just ahead of her.

He pulled up at the house and wondered if it was a mess inside and then shrugged because what difference did it make? He left room in the driveway for Sam and went inside.

The L-shaped house was slanted on the lot, slightly off kilter with the bedrooms and bathroom in the arm facing the street and the rest of the house tucked into the back. There was a long walk to the 'front door' from the street so a visitor had to be truly committed or truly invited. At first glance it was obviously an attempt to face the main living area where the creek and trees and green spaces could be enjoyed; but this was the house that Jack built – with its back deliberately turned on the world. There was a poem in there somewhere, or a children's book with an unhappy ending.

He hadn't been here in many, many cycles and he had just left this morning. The paradox made his head hurt.

The sound of her car in the driveway was too familiar, too normal. It would be much too easy to get used to and he wondered what she might do with this house, this bastion of masculinity, a male stronghold against the world. His fantasies had long ago stopped being about sex. Now they were about having another presence in his house – her presence. Sam sharing this space, warming it, taking off the hard edges and making it home, her stuff on his shelves, her matched set of dishes replacing the ones he'd picked up at various Dollar Stores after the divorce, her state of the art laptop in the office instead of his old clunker, her toothbrush next to his and her shampoo taking up space in the shower.

Her dazzling brilliance in his house, in his life.

She came in without knocking and stood hovering in the entrance for a minute. He imagined her coming like that and meeting her at the door with a kiss, nuzzling her ear, taking her coat and asking how she was.

"You want something?" he asked.

"You mean a beer," she smiled.

"Or water. I got water."

"Beer's fine."

She followed him into the kitchen the way she followed him off world – one step off his shoulder, on his 'good' side. Teal'c always took the side with the bum knee. He probably thought Jack had never noticed.

He handed her a bottle from the fridge with the neck caught between his thumb and forefinger, loosely, but her fingers brushed his when she took it. It was deliberate, it was effective. A sizzling charge passed between their fingertips and for a moment they stared into each other's eyes and had a dozen conversations at once without saying a word.

They went into the living room and she took the chair by the fire and he took the other one, facing each other on a slight angle.

"So?" she said.

"So?"

"Why are we here?"

"Why not?" He had a feeling he wasn't pulling off the casual innocence he was hoping for.

"Sir," she said and he wondered how she always managed that, chastising him without really ever overstepping the boundary into insubordination. She stopped and shook her head in a rueful way. "It's not fair."

"What's not?" Jack leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out in front of him and tried to look as unassuming as possible. He took a long swallow of beer and watched the emotions play out on her expressive face.

"I can say whatever I want to you right now, but I won't remember it and you will."

"So don't tell me anything you don't want me to remember," he shrugged, though his heart was pounding.

"And if it's something I want you to know, to remember?"

"Then I'll remember it for both of us."

She looked hesitant and hopeful at the same time.

"We can't do this," she said, finally.

"This?"

"Give in to it."

"It? _Christ,_ Carter, I'm the one with the reputation for being uncommunicative!"

"US!" she blurted out, "We can't do 'us', not the way we want. There's too much at stake."

"We could find a way to make it work," he answered, staring at his toes because her eyes were just too bright and honest.

"No we can't," she said, "Not with the NID and Kinsey breathing down our necks and…and… "

She broke off, one hand moving in the air helplessly.

"Fate of the world?" Jack guessed.

"You don't have to sound so off-handed about it," she said. "It's not like everything SG1 has accomplished isn't important."

"I didn't say that," he protested. He'd built that team. He was damned proud of that team and what it had done. "But isn't that what we're saying here? Bigger picture, saving the Earth, the whole Casablanca thing."

"Casablanca?" she repeated, lost once more when he took off on one of his tangents.

"_The problems of two people don't amount to a hill of beans in this world_," he quoted.

Something flared in her eyes. He watched the shift from cruise control to over drive.

"Well maybe they matter to those two people!" she snapped. She paused, wondering if she had finally overstepped.

She took a deep breath, banked the fire in her eyes and quoted, softly, "_If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. And for the rest of your life."_

He gazed at her, took another drink and said, "You've seen the movie."

"A few times," she admitted.

"I'll resign," he said, bluntly and she gaped at him, shocked. "I mean it. The minute the planet is secure, I'll give it all up, if you'll wait for me."

"Don't," she sounded strangled.

"Don't tell you that nothing is more important to me than you are? That a huge part of being out there, leading this team, is making sure that you're safe, that the planet you call home is safe, that everything I do is for _you? _Why not? It's the truth!"

"It's a kind of truth," she said, "It's one permutation of the truth…"

"Don't go all science on me," he growled.

"You have a Masters in aeronautical engineering! Don't go all 'stupid' on me," she shot back.

It shut him up abruptly, at least for a moment. His long, hard stare finally got her talking again.

"You can't make Major without a masters," she grumbled, "I looked it up. It's a matter of public record, unlike most of your file."

"I can resign now if that's what it takes to prove it to you," he said, quietly.

She looked suddenly terrified. "No don't please," she begged, "I can't… I can't be out there without you, not yet."

Jack sat up, leaned forward and rolled the bottle between his hands for a little while.

"Then we have to talk about what can be in the future, not what we can do now."

"We can't do anything now," she said, "Even if you resign, if we try to have a relationship, Kinsey will still come after SG1. Teal'c and Daniel will get caught in the fallout."

Jack finished his beer, set the empty bottle on the floor by the chair and raked his fingers through his spikey hair.

"I know."

Sam put her beer down on the coffee table. She had hardly touched it.

"There's more," she said.

Jack sank down again, rested his head on the back of his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"I know that, too," he said, sadly.

"You're next in line," she said, unnecessarily, "Hammond retires and you get the program. I get SG1, most likely. The program will continue even if we wipe the Goa'uld out of existence and you're the only one who can take it over."

"Don't wish that on me," he murmured.

"You know it will happen," she said, quietly.

He shifted his dark eyes so that he could see her, but didn't move otherwise.

"And then you'll get the program," he said, "and they won't be able to stop me from retiring forever."

"Could be a while," she said.

"The question is," he said, "is that what _we_ want."

Their eyes met and the conversation was short and eloquent.

"Damn," he said, when it was over.

He leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He was so tired suddenly.

Sam slipped out of her chair and was suddenly kneeling in front of him. Jack thought she must finally be getting the real impact of this time looping thing because it wasn't something she would ever have done under normal circumstances.

"When was the last time you got to sleep?" she asked.

"Dunno," he admitted.

"Come on then."

Sam took his hand and urged him to his feet. Ten minutes later they had the house locked up and he had stripped to his t-shirt and underwear and was collapsing onto his own familiar bed. He closed his eyes and tried to get comfortable on a mattress that he didn't seem to remember anymore; and then promptly snapped them open again when he heard the sound of Sam undoing her belt.

He lifted his head again and saw her pulling it out of the loops on her khakis.

"Carter," he began.

"Oh hush," she said, "We can curl up together and the world won't end."

Jack privately thought that the world ending with him curled up around Carter in bed really wouldn't be a bad way to put a halt to the current madness.

Her belt and boots were the only thing she took off, to his great relief. The mattress shifted as she laid down beside him, facing him. She put her head on his collar bone and her knees on his thighs, deliberately holding everything else away. Her hand rested on his ribs.

"You're not mad I don't want to….to…." he let it trail off, unable to say the words.

"Do you want to?" she asked, with more than a bit of challenge in her voice.

Jack closed his eyes. He couldn't look her in the eyes and lie.

"Yes," he whispered, "But we can't… not like this."

"Because you'll be the only one who remembers," she said.

"Yes."

There was a pause and he suddenly realized she was shaking a little.

"You know that's exactly why I love you, right?"

"You realize I'll remember that you said that."

"Yes."

He pulled her tighter, kissed the top of her head.

"I love you too," he said.

Sam sighed, tilted her head back to offer him her mouth and he accepted. It was soft and slow and gentle and lulled him like a campfire on a dark night.

"I'm going to get you out of this," she promised, when they were done, "I'm going to fix the loop and get it all back to normal."

Sleep was tugging at him.

"I know you will," he said, voice slurred. "Counting on it."

To his surprise she fell asleep first. He felt her relax one muscle group at a time, her breathing slowed, her lashes a long dark crescent stain on her cheeks. The last reserve of tension drained away. A man who had not slept in who-knew-how-many-ten-hour-cycles didn't need to be coaxed to sleep. The ache inside him eased a bit. Sam continued to soften in his arms, not holding herself quite so far away and her weight was so good and so right. He felt a small tingling of arousal but that was only sweetness because he didn't have to do anything about it.

Sam was in his arms. He could feel her breathing, against his chest, against his neck. He could feel her pulse beating.

For now, it was enough.

(0)


End file.
